Chapter Seventeen

Joanna coughed hard. The smell of burned wood, heated metal, and smoke coated her throat with layers of thick gunk. Her chest hurt. Her lungs stung. Her body compressed beneath something heavy. Prying her eyes open, she tried to move, but only managed to send a series of painful jolts spearing throughout her lower half.

Don’t panic. Not yet.

Hazy specks of light danced in the now chilly night air and hindered her vision. What the heck? She closed her eyes. Opened them again. And remembered the horrific sound resembling a bomb. The contents of the warehouse taunted her with disturbing scenarios. All those large furniture pieces, boxes filled to the brim with household items, the high metal beams supporting the warehouse’s roof, along with the barrels of toxic waste made for a lethal combination in an explosion.

“Ryker…” She attempted to speak. Tried again. But no other sound came out.

Please don’t let me be buried alive.

She swallowed and tried to clear the smoky taste from her mouth as reality swayed just beyond her reach. Where was she? What happened? Was Ryker all right?

Blinking repeatedly, she finally cleared the haze from her sight and managed to turn her head so she could see upward. The night sky shown bright, the stars and moon shadowed by a thick, dark fog billowing up in a ghostly trailing cloud. Odd. How could she see the stars from inside the building? Her gaze followed the inky cloud to the source.

Fire.

Chills assaulted her body.

Crimson flames rose up like an angry deity, consuming the horizon in its furious wrath. The moon strained to shine through the thick smoke covering the night sky, its face turning multiple shades of wild red and reminding her of blood. And that’s when clarity smacked her head on.

“Ryker!” He was still in the building. She tried to sit up, but something bulky and heavy kept her down.

Sirens blared nearby, but weren’t visible.

Hurry. Please hurry!

Thoughts of Ryker obsessed her. He’d been so close to the explosion. She vividly remembered seeing him, the fire growing around him like a wild beast. The hazardous waste barrels exploding on impact. And Keith…?

Fear engulfed her chest. Where was Keith?

He’d been right there with her. Started the damn fire with his stupid smoking. Was about to shoot Ryker when the blaze started. She pushed hard against the heavy mass on top of her chest, realizing at the last second it was a person. Not debris as she first thought. Panic tightened her muscles.

Keith.

Struggling against the murkiness, she tried to figure out if he was breathing.

Slowly, after several breaks in between to catch her own breath, her efforts paid off. She managed to roll the man off to the left side and push herself up on her elbows, ready to crawl away on her hands and knees.

Instantly, his face materialized in the moonlight. Her entire body froze.

“Ryker.” She went to scramble to her knees, but a pain in her left leg knocked her back to the ground on her side. The pain raged throughout her body. It stung, throbbing as if someone lit a match inside her and now stood fanning the flames. Tears pooling in her eyes, she heaved herself closer to his motionless body.

“Please don’t die.” She reached over and checked his neck for a pulse. “Don’t you dare die on me.”

A slow, dull thump reached her fingertips and a shriek built at the base of her raw throat. His pulse was weak, way too weak, but his breathing was steady. A good sign, although the blood on her hands and clothes told another story. The gunshot wound on his shoulder was bleeding again, and she had nothing but her shirt to try and stop it this time.

Not wasting another second, she pulled the soiled shirt over her head inside out and pressed it against his shoulder, thankful she wore a sports bar underneath instead of just a bra.

Blinding lights covered the parking lot as several police cars sped through the gates, followed by a line of fire trucks and at least one ambulance.

Thank God. “Help! We’re over here!” Joanna tried to maneuver to her feet and alert them of their location but collapsed back on the ground hard. Spasms of agony ricocheted through her left leg so intense, queasiness swirled low and deep, threatening to knock her out cold.

She rocked back and forth, fighting to stay conscious.

One of the last police cars to enter flashed its high beams on, pulling to a stop at the edge of the driveway. Through the open window, the driver’s head turned and locked on the patch of grass where she and Ryker lay. Her body relaxed. Somehow he’d spotted her.

Mesmerized by the fierce angry show of flames, she stared at the inferno in front of her. With each gust of wind, waves of blazing heat hit her chilled skin and fed the fire into a bigger conflagration. Devilish sparks greedily engulfed every inch. There’d be nothing left. And she found herself torn. Part of her hoped Keith died in the explosion, that the nightmare would be over. But the other part needed him to live. How else would she find out what happened to her father?

Keith had been such a vibrant, curious, happy kid, even after losing his mother. The tragic event never seemed to affect him negatively. At what point had things changed? What happened to bring out this evil person hiding inside him?

Guilt extended its nasty tendrils around her heart. As much time as they’d spent together, she should have realized something was off. She should have seen this dark side of him early on and been able to guide him in a better direction.

The police car pulled to a stop in front of them, and the cop got out, waving an ambulance over. “Two wounded over here.”

She looked down at Ryker’s motionless body, a niggle of fear slithering down her spine. “Please don’t let him die.”

The minutes flew by as she watched them work on him. He didn’t move or regain consciousness, and her heart ached. Once they managed to get him stable, they eased him onto a gurney and lifted him into the back of the ambulance. Only then did she let her own weariness take over. For some reason, the pain in her leg had intensified as time passed.

“Miss, are you all right?” One of the paramedics helping Ryker turned his attention to her and stooped down to the ground, making eye contact.

“I don’t think so.”

“Where does it hurt?”

“All over. But mainly on this side.” She glanced down at her left leg where a sticky substance stuck her jeans to her skin.

“Let’s get you checked out.” He pulled his medical kit over to him. “Those scratches on your face don’t look too bad, but you could have internal injuries from the explosion. I take it you were inside when it went off?

She nodded.

“Can you tell me what happened? Is there anyone else inside?”

She talked the medics and the lone officer through the series of events several times. Explained about the intruder at her house, how’d they’d run, trying to escape after finding the cop dead in his vehicle, how Ryker had been shot several times, and that the gunman was unaccounted for. She’d assured them she was fine, just tired. But even as she’d said it, she knew it was a lie. She was anything but fine—only buying Ryker the precious time and manpower he needed to survive.

Now her strength faded fast. She struggled to keep her eyes open. “What do we do now?”

“How about you start by telling me your name?” The medic’s calm voice soothed her fears.

“Joanna McNamee.” Her voice didn’t sound like hers at all. The tone held a weird pitch eerily similar to her grandmother’s before she’d died.

“Ms. McNamee, stay awake. Don’t pass out on me now.”

“Jo Jo. Please call me Jo Jo.” She smiled, recalling how Ryker’s entire body stiffened when she’d asked him to call her that the first time they’d met at the hotel to discuss her missing truck. He’d recognized her immediately. “Ryker?” She pointed a shaky finger at the back of the ambulance. “Is he okay?”

“He’s stable. We’ll know more when we get to the hospital. Now let’s focus on you, little lady.” The man’s hands were gentle as he searched her body. “Does this hurt?” he asked, pushing gently on her right side.

“I’m fine,” she lied again. “Please take care of him.” Her mind whirled over the events of the past few hours. The kisses they’d shared. The passion between them back at her father’s place.

“Jo Jo, you still with us?”

She nodded, irritated at the medic for breaking her train of thought. Now where was she? Oh, yes. Ryker.

For the life of her, she had no idea why bits and pieces of the night they’d shared were missing. Of course, the excessive drinking could be behind the memory lapses, but something in her gut twisted and knotted, warning her there was something much darker behind her elusive memory. It had to do with what Keith said to her back in the SUV. He’d admitted to following her, watching her at her dad’s request, which made more than just her skin crawl. But maybe he’d done a lot more.

He’d somehow found her at the coffee shop that morning and bought her a cup of coffee. Would he have drugged her out of jealousy after she spent the night with Ryker? He’d scolded her for leaving the bar with a stranger. That’s when he told her about the bet. She vaguely remembered waking up in her own bed the next day, hungover, but not how she’d gotten home. What vividly danced in her memory was Keith being there, in her apartment, taking care of her. For the entire week.

With that horrifying thought, her body numbed.

“Jo Jo. Come on now. Just a little longer. Talk to me. You can do it.” The medic slipped the needle of an IV into her wrist, the prick barely noticeable. She felt an extra pair of hands on her before her body lifted off the ground and onto what she decided must be a gurney. So uncomfortable, her crazy mind grumbled.

“She’s fading fast. Looks like she has a pretty bad puncture on the left thigh. She’s lost a lot of blood. Concussion for sure.”

Great. Knowing her luck, she’d bleed to death before they got to the hospital. And suffer permanent brain damage.

“How far out is the next ambulance?” her smooth-talking rescuer asked.

“About five minutes,” an unfamiliar female voice answered.

“Good. She’s stable, and I’ve got the bleeding controlled. I’ll wait here with her. You go with him. Looks like he’s the worse of the two.”

“Any more casualties?” the man asked. As Joanna faded she heard the reply, “None that we’ve found yet. But the blaze is too hot. They’ve had to call the firefighters back until more backup arrives.” Vision blurry, she could barely make out the stars, much less the medic’s kind face mere inches from hers as he secured a warm blanket on top of her body.

As the ambulance doors closed with Ryker inside, she listened to the motor rev to life and then heard the tires crunch the tiny rocks of asphalt as the vehicle eased through the parking lot and then drove away.

Ryker had to live. He had to.

Damn it.

Three days later, after being heavily medicated, Ryker paced the hall of the hospital, his limp less noticeable now that the pain medication had kicked in. Left arm in a sling, white bandages wrapped around his forehead, he gawked at the image of the man reflected through the glass window of Jo Jo’s hospital room.

Shit, man. You look like hell.

And then his eyes focused on Jo Jo. Hair pulled back from her sweet face, she slept. Even though her pale skin was darkened by bruises and speckled with scratches, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

Thankfully, nothing had been broken during her ordeal. She’d suffered a severe laceration to her thigh and a concussion, but a few stitches and a couple weeks of rest and she’d be good to go. He drew in a long, deep breath. Damn, things could have been so much worse.

He gritted his teeth. He’d awoken to the news they still hadn’t found Keith’s body. Or what was left of it after the building burned to the ground. According to his friend at the fire department, the ashes were still smoldering.

What they did find was the gun used to shoot Ryker. An old .380 Colt Mustang known for its accuracy problems. Lucky for him. The small caliber and fact the bullet made a clean exit, missing muscle, bone, and important arteries, were the reasons he was up and moving about so soon. Infection was his biggest worry, but the doctor assured him he was in the clear, since Jo Jo had done such a great job of cleaning and dressing his wounds.

Could Keith have made it out of that fire alive without anyone seeing him? Although not likely, Ryker wanted proof. He needed to know without a doubt Keith died in the blaze. That Jo Jo wouldn’t have to keep looking over her shoulder.

“Hey, handsome. Has she woken up and told you she’s in love with you yet?”

Surprised by the feminine voice and the comment, Ryker turned to acknowledge Jo Jo’s friend, Sam. “No. Not yet.” He smiled. “She tell you that?”

The energetic blonde laughed, throwing her long ponytail over her shoulder. “I’ve known her all my life, hon. That girl doesn’t need to say anything. I see it in her eyes. Hear it in her voice when she talks about you. She’s been crazy about you since high school.” She shot him a serious look. “But don’t you dare tell her I said anything. I’ll deny it.” And then she punched him in his good arm.

“Ouch. Noted.” Piece of work, he thought rubbing his bicep. That’s the phrase that fit Samantha Brooks. High spirited. And high maintenance as hell. With a severe kind of protective love for her best friend. Despite it all, Ryker grew to like her more and more every second and hoped her intuition proved true where Jo Jo was concerned.

“Go on in. She’s awake, lover boy. Just resting her eyes.” She shook her head. “I’ve already told Jo Jo I’m taking her up to my lake house in Lynnville for a few weeks to recover. Her business has been put on hold until she gets her strength back. I’m thinking we might need a pair of extra hands while we’re up there. You know, for any heavy lifting that might arise.” Her eyes drifted to his chest and the sling. “Well, maybe you could tell her it was for protection. An extra safety measure till things quiet down around here and the coast is clear. You game?”

Ryker smiled. She’d just given him the perfect opportunity to spend time with Jo Jo. But he remembered their conversation back in her apartment. “Have they found her father yet?”

“As a matter of fact, he’s recovering here at the hospital.”

“What? He’s here?”

“Yep, some kind of overdose, I think. He was in pretty bad shape. Jo Jo’s been fit to be tied because they won’t let her see him. And they won’t tell me a stinking thing. But I think I heard the nurse tell Jo Jo today might be a good day.”

“Really. Wow. Who brought him in?” And what had gone wrong? He hadn’t been up and around long enough to call in and get an update on the case. The minute he’d gained strength and clarity, his first priority was to see Jo Jo. There was no way Denise and her partner had grown a conscience.

“I think an off-duty cop found him on the side of the road. Said it looked like someone tried to make it seem like a drug overdose and then dumped his body.”

“How did Jo Jo take that?” Now, that sounded more like the pair’s MO. But what about the codes Keith needed to unlock the files on the laptop? Was this a sign he’d died in the fire, and Denise and her partner were cutting their losses and getting out of town?

“I haven’t told her the gruesome details yet. I don’t want to upset her any more than she already is.” She leaned in closer. “Between you and me, her relationship with her father has been rocky for years.”

“I know.”

“You do? How?” Her perfectly sculpted brow crinkled.

“She told me. About how hard he always was on her growing up.”

Sam nodded. “Yep, you’re the one, all right. Jo Jo never talks to anyone about her father. About their relationship or how she’d give anything to gain his approval. Not even me.”

With that knowledge doing a number on his resolve to keep things professional between them for the time being, Ryker excused himself and eased into the dimly lit room. He tried to walk quietly to the foot of Jo Jo’s bed.

Her eyes slowly opened, and she smiled, warming his heart.

“Hey,” she said, her weak voice low and rough.

“Hey. How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine. I keep telling the doctor to cut the meds so I can get out of here. But he says they need to keep me for observation.”

“He’s the doctor.”

“Yeah, whatever.” She rolled her eyes. “Hey, you think you can do me a favor?”

“Sure. Anything.” Truth was he’d fly to the moon and back for her at this point. He moved to the side of her bed, wanting so badly to kiss her. But he held back, instead leaning over to brush a lock of hair off her forehead.

“Can you go check on my dad? Evidently, he’s here recovering. But even though they told Sam no one but family can visit, they won’t let me inside his room.”

“I’m not family.”

“No, but you are a cop. Can’t you say you need to ask him questions about the case or something? You know, get Turow to pull some strings on his end?”

He patted her hand, and she closed her fingers around his in a soft grip. He groaned inwardly. “Let me see what I can do.”

“Thanks, Ryker.” She choked back a sob. “For everything.”

“And thank you.” He glanced down at the sling. “For taking such good care of me. Not sure I’d be talking to you if you hadn’t done such a great job of dressing my wounds.”

Their gazes met for a moment before he forced himself to turn away as her eyes misted over. He pushed his hands into his pockets.

“I’m glad you came back to Bram. That we’ve…reconnected.”

The sincerity in her words as she forced them out despite the sob lingering close surprised him. Made him wonder if she’d been thinking about him as much as he had about her over the past few days. Every time he came to, his thoughts drifted to her but then the next thing he knew he’d be out again. Being down, unable to function normally sucked big time. He wanted to know more about her past, about what music this lovely woman liked, if she enjoyed sports or the orchestra, heaven help him. And what it would feel like to fall asleep next to her sweet body each night. “I can’t wait to show you how glad I am.” He winked.

She giggled and brought a hand up to her face to dab at the moisture resting in the corners of her eyes. “Well, I guess I have something to look forward to then.”

He slipped a hand from his pocket and gave her arm a gentle squeeze. “You just get better. I’ll see what I can find out about your father.”

Still choked up, she nodded.

“Be good,” he said lifting one brow. Slipping his hand away, he left without another word, gritting his teeth so hard his jaw popped. He needed to get a grip. The urge to hold her, kiss her, tell her everything would be all right from here on out was too strong to ignore.

His being a cop might be enough to get the information needed about Jo Jo’s father, but if not, he had connections and planned to use them all.

An extra bounce in his limp that had nothing to do with his injury made him smile as he headed for the nurse’s station.

He’d make arrangements for her to visit with her father, see that he was okay, and then talk her into letting him accompany them to the lake. His dog was at his mom’s place. And with his job in Bram on hold for a few weeks due to his injuries, he had plenty of time to persuade her they were destined to be together.